Jack gazes up at her. He is wounded and pale. Lean to the point of sickness.

She looks at Matty’s sleeping face. Listens to his breathing, soft and even. Jack’s breaths clatter in and out. He is almost obscured in the gloom.

Seconds slip by, drop away.

Jack leans forward, swimming into view. “I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know.”

“I do. I believe it.”

His eyes are unrelenting. Ava can almost hear the gears of stubbornness whirring inside the machinery of his brain. She argues with herself unconvincingly.

Tell him.

Who you are.

Now, no matter what.

What to say: You don’t understand, Jack. He’ll make you hurt. He’ll take what matters most. He’ll do it with a smile, and then he’ll smoke a cigarette.

She says, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But I have to.”

For a heartbeat, she says nothing. She tries to tell herself, It will be okay.

Bullshit.

“It will be all right,” he says. “You’ll see. You have to believe it. Just don’t give up on me. Okay?”

Silence again.

But not really. Wind is slashing out there, and the cold presses down on the room like a slab. The shrinking light, the smell of dust.

She means to tell him. To change his mind. But his face is there in the dark. Sweet, quiet Jack. A thing she doesn’t dare hope for. As she looks at him, the dread subsides. Something about Jack is comforting. Responsible. He is gentle, he is strong. She trusts him.

Wait, then.

Tell him everything. After. When you’re back.

Safe.

She sits by him on the bed. She is quiet, and so is he.

Each begins to hope.

“Okay,” she says. “When do we leave?”

XXVI

I’ve got these memories.

Sometimes these memories have me.

Jack tried to convince Ava to stay, but she wouldn’t hear it. She sat on the bed, regarding him, unshakable. There was no persuading her. Finally he gave up. He rose in the dull light and went through the duffel. Getting inside the house would be the first hard part. Take the back roads. Park the car and hike in from the south—not from the front. Then the barn. Find the briefcase. The money. A flashlight would be of use, but there wasn’t one. So. Take the candle. The matches. Leave the can opener.

Could be someone’ll be watching.

Yup. So get in and out.

Fast.

Take the hammer.

He thought about making more of a plan, but there was no good plan to think of and after a few minutes he just sat in the chair. He didn’t dare talk to Ava. He was about to get up when Matty woke.

“It’s dark,” Matty said.

Jack turned on the lamp. “Yeah. You fell asleep.”